


West of Omaha

by LaughableLament



Series: Comment Ficlets [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: ohsam, Cursed Sam, Flashbacks, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, OhSam Triple Play 2015, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 02:30:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5146985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaughableLament/pseuds/LaughableLament
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She’d made a solid play, he’d give her that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	West of Omaha

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crowroad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowroad/gifts).



> Written for [this prompt](http://ohsam.livejournal.com/845164.html?thread=4281964#t4281964) (cross-posted).

Trees and fence posts whip past, twilight blur. One hand on the wheel and one curled around Sam's sweat-soaked neck.

_LEBANON  40_

“C’mon, Sammy. C’mon, bro, hang in there.”

“We get it, Dean?” Shiver like a grand mal rocks his brother’s body. “The werewolf?” Sam looks across the seat, not seeing. Well. Not seeing here, not seeing now.

 _Which werewolf?_ he wonders, like it matters. “Yeah, man. You took it out.”

“When's Dad coming home?”

Goddamn Rowena. Any other night he’d savor, take his pleasure, listening to her howl and thump in the trunk. She dents the lid he's gonna kill her extra slow.

Fuck it. “Dad’s here, Sam. Safe and sound. Sleepin’ it off.”

Mumbling. “If it bleeds you can kill it if it bleeds you can kill it if it bleeds you can kill it…”

Son of a bitch.

“Sammy? Sam!”

She’d made a solid play, he’d give her that. Kill one of them and the other woulda gutted her like a trout. Curse one, buy time.

_“It’s a memory spell, my dear.” Smile dripping venom. “I can lift it, but I’ll need a few, supplies.”_

Supplies from the Bunker, of course. Gritted teeth. Bitch figured out her one way into the Men of Letters’ stronghold.

Sam’s face twists, betrayed. “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lied to you. Just open the door.”

Aw, Christ.

“Come back here. Dean! Let me out of here!” Eyes wild. Shakes come nonstop now, Sam’s layers soaked through.

“Sammy?” Fuck if he knows what else to say.

“Stay the hell away from me! Leave me alone!”

“Sam, you’re safe, okay?”

“Even now. Everyone around me dies!”

 _Keep it together, Winchester._ “Sammy, please. You gotta listen, man. I got you.”

“Dean?” Sounds almost lucid. “Is that why we never talk about… Mom?”

Jaw locks so tight he could chew charcoal and spit diamonds. _Just, hang on, little brother._

Burnt rubber and gravel spray up a cloud. Sam’s “No!” follows him to the Bunker door.

“Sammy.” The stairs are a loss. They’ll never make it without at least one broken neck. “Just, just stay here, kid.” Props his brother against the banister. “Gonna fix you up. I promise.”

“Michael.” Barely a whisper. “Please, help me.”

He actually pukes in his mouth.

Trunk lid creaks open. “Well. It’s about bloody time,” Rowena spits. “You could’ve let me ride in the – ”

“I don’t want a word outta you except the reversal spell.” He hauls her out, sets her on manacled feet.

“Rude. Lucky for you I never intended to hurt your darlin’ brother. Samuel and I have a… special connection. Why – ”

Hand around her skinny neck. Lips curled. “Not. One. Word.”

“No. Alistair, please. God! Stop!”

He bundles her into into a library chair, hopes he’s bruising the shit out of her arm. “Make a list.”

On the balcony, Sam bucks and shakes.

Back up the stairs, two at a time. Half slides, half dives, gets a hand around his brother’s head. Hangs on. Shushes. Waits.

**Author's Note:**

> Title adapted from Bob Seger's "Turn the Page" and inspired by crowroad's prompt.


End file.
